


Practice Makes Perfect

by arabybizarre, Cophinaphile, jaybear1701, LadyZephyr, OBFrankenfics, tatarrific, thecirclesquare, trylonandperisphere, twig_height



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Homage, some kind of wonderful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3408404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabybizarre/pseuds/arabybizarre, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cophinaphile/pseuds/Cophinaphile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybear1701/pseuds/jaybear1701, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyZephyr/pseuds/LadyZephyr, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OBFrankenfics/pseuds/OBFrankenfics, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatarrific/pseuds/tatarrific, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecirclesquare/pseuds/thecirclesquare, https://archiveofourown.org/users/trylonandperisphere/pseuds/trylonandperisphere, https://archiveofourown.org/users/twig_height/pseuds/twig_height
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delphine helps Cosima prepare for a date with the most popular girl in school. A Cophine AU inspired by the 80s classic "Some Kind of Wonderful."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. By jaybear1701

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr, this fic was the first round robin story we all wrote together. It's dedicated to our good buddy, [theglassintact](http://theglassintact.tumblr.com/).

“What if she wants to kiss you?”

Cosima’s hands still on the tiny beast men she has just arranged on the hexagonal pieces of her game board while her gaze snaps up.

“What?” She locks eyes with her best friend Delphine, who leans a black leather-clad shoulder on the garage door frame. A fat backpack stuffed with bulky text books lays on the cement next to her scuffed up Chucks.

Delphine crosses her arms and bites the corner of her bottom lip, canting her blonde curls to the side.

“You asked out Shay Jones, the most popular girl in school, and amazingly enough she said yes,” she explains. “What if she wants to kiss you?”

Cosima shrugs even as her stomach flutters at the thought, both with dread and anticipation. “Then I guess I’ll just _have_ to kiss her.”

A strange expression passes over Delphine’s face, one that darkens her hazel eyes and makes her nostrils flare slightly. She pushes off the frame suddenly, sliding her hands in the back pockets of her ripped jeans as she shuffles toward Cosima.

“You’ve never kissed anyone,” Delphine points out as if Cosima isn’t already painfully aware of that fact.

“No, I haven’t.” Cosima leaves her gaming table, walks to the fridge in the corner of the garage, opens it, and pulls out two sodas. She hands one to Delphine, who hops onto a pine work bench beside the stainless steel appliance. “But last I checked, kissing’s not rocket science.”

“True.” Delphine nods as she pops open her can and takes a sip. “But if you have only one shot, don’t you think you should perhaps work on it?”

“Work on it?” Cosima scrunches her forehead, not quite sure where Delphine’s going with this line of questioning. “How?”

“Pretend I’m her,” Delphine says matter-of-factly, setting her drink down next to her.

“What!?”

Cosima’s eyebrows to shoot up and all the moisture evaporates from her mouth, which drops open, jaw unhinged.

“Pretend I’m Shay.”

“Delphine…” Cosima shakes her head, not quite believing what she was hearing.

“Shay Jones will not be swept off her feet by amateur lips.”

“Gee thanks.”

“I’m just saying, if you want to give a kiss that kills, I can help you practice,” Delphine offers, gripping the edges of the wood. “What are best friends for, right?”

It makes sense, Cosima supposes, in a completely bizarre sort of way. Practice _does_ make perfect. But the thought of practicing with Delphine, the pretty French girl who’s lived down the street since she was seven, seems so absurd that Cosima can’t help but laugh.

“You can’t be serious,” she says incredulously.

“Dead serious,” Delphine replies. “But if you’re confident already…”

“Well, no, I’m no expert. Obvs.”

“Then come here.”

Delphine has one eyebrow half-cocked, as if she’s daring her, and Cosima finds she suddenly has to swallow against a tight lump in her throat.

“Okay.”

With two steps, she closes the distance between them and places her own soda can on the bench.

“Where will you put your hands?” Delphine asks, staring at her so intensely that Cosima’s brain begins to lose the ability to formulate coherent words.

“Um…”

“Why don’t you try this?” Delphine reaches out and wraps her fingers around Cosima’s wrists, pulling her between her legs and placing Cosima’s hands on her hips. The brunette’s gaze drops down, taking note of the rough seams of Delphine’s worn denim and the way her curves fit snugly against her increasingly clammy palms.

“Eyes up here.” Delphine cups Cosima’s jaw and gently tilts her head back up. They’re standing so close that Cosima can make out a mesmerizing corona of emerald and burnt orange in Delphine’s golden orbs. How had she not noticed that before, she wonders as her already shallow breath hitches.

“She’ll probably do this,” Delphine continues, wrapping her arms around Cosima’s neck. She draws her even closer and the rhythm of Cosima’s heart turns erratic, beating in rapid triplets against the wall of her chest. “Close your eyes.”

Cosima licks her lips and obliges.

The first brush is feather soft and sweet. Tentative. Their noses bump when Cosima shifts and they both giggle nervously.

“Focus,” Delphine whispers the command.

The second kiss is deeper, less unsure, mouths meeting at just the right angle to lock together perfectly. And by the third, Delphine’s lips melt against hers and a heady buzz washes over Cosima, from her head down her neck, torso, legs. All the way to her toes. Delphine tastes like sweet mint and smoke, and Cosima finds that she =can’t get enough. She grasps Delphine’s hips tightly and feels Delphine’s thighs clench around her waist in response. On instinct, Cosima slips her tongue between Delphine’s parted lips… only for Delphine to gasp and suddenly shove her away.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Cosima stutters out, brows knitted, light-headed and dizzy. The room seems to spin on its axis.

“Nothing.” Cheeks flushed, Delphine slides off the bench and places several strides of distance between them. “Practice is over.” She seems to have trouble catching her breath as she hastily stumbles backward toward the garage entrance.

“Wait, you're leaving?” Cosima’s stomach twists. “I thought we were going to studying for our bio exam?”

“You, um,” Delphine clears her throat, “you should be good. I have to, um, I forgot I had to do something… for my parents.”

“Delphine…”

Before she can react, Delphine completes a 180, snatches up her backpack, and sprints down the driveway.  After a few moments of stunned silence, Cosima chases after her, but then slows to a stop when she reaches the asphalt, confusion swirling within her. She’s unsure of what exactly she would do if she caught up with Delphine in the first place. And so she stands in place, tracing a finger across her lips as she watches Delphine disappear down the street.


	2. By tatarrific

She is sitting stock still in front of her locker, willing her body to stop perspiring - she may have taken the last set of hurdles at a bit of a clip - when the conversation drifting in from behind the next set of lockers snaps her attention to.

"She asked you out? Cosima? Like, out-out?” Delphine cocks her head at the mention of her best friend’s name, the affected voice clearly belonging to Tracy, the cheerleading co-captain. “And you said yes?”

Delphine’s brows knit, and she almost doesn’t hear the response over the sudden booming of her heart. “Yes. And yes. And I totally said yes.” The husky tone is unmistakable, the smile in it audible, and Delphine can clearly visualize the perky, blue-eyed blonde to whom it belongs. Shay. Shay Jones. The head cheerleader, the most popular girl in high school. She shakes her head mutely, uncomprehending, her throat dry.

“Huh. Wouldn’t have taken you for being into.. geek, Shay. Besides, I thought she was banging, what’s her name - the, the.. French chick?”

Delphine can feel her eyes bulge out with shock as she sits up ramrod straight, afraid to move a muscle.

“Oh, come on, she is totally adorable! The dreads, the glasses, and have you seen those lips… Girl totally got it going. And she is not,” the wall of lockers shudders as Shay punctuates her point by slamming shut her locker door, “banging anyone.”

“Rrreally?” The disembodied voices start moving toward the locker room exit, and Delphine relaxes minutely. “Didn’t peg you for a cherry picker, either. Is this all just a ploy to get back at that dumb-ass ex of yours?”

“Well, it certainly wouldn’t hurt, but seriously, have you seen the body on-” the locker room door clangs shut, cutting off the rest of Shay’s words and Delphine sags, heart drumming wildly. Her mind is trip-wiring, thoughts careening against each other. Cosima asked Shay out? Cosima? Was interested in.. in Shay? Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised, Shay was beautiful and popular and brimmed with self-assurance that appeared preternatural, almost unfair for someone their age but seemed to come naturally to some girls. Girl. Cosima asked a girl out. And Tracy, they- they thought that she and Cosima were… bang- ah.

Delphine shakes her head, trying to dispel the sudden sensation of warmth crawling up her neck at the thought, shake off the funny fluttering in her stomach. She had no idea. Cosima is her best friend - has been ever since she swerved wildly trying to wave to Delphine while riding her bike and crashed straight into their parked moving truck the very first day Delphine moved into the neighborhood. They had shared everything with each other, lunches, fears, plans for adulthood and, yes, even the few, fleeting crushes they had experienced before. She last saw Cosima just a couple hours earlier, in their class, as they firmed up the plans to study together after school - and Cosima did not mention anything about the decision to ask Shay – who is a girl - out. When had she done it? Would she have even told her about it? What did it mean?

She rakes her hand through her hair, fingers catching on damp locks. In truth, things had changed between them over the past six months, ever since the summer. When Delphine had left for the summer, back to France to visit her grand-maman, Cosima had been sad as she waved at their cab, promised to write to her every day. And she had, for the first few weeks, her letters filled with pages of minute detail of her days; how her softball pitching was progressing, how she failed on her first driving test – did Delphine know that the car had to be fully stopped at a stop sign? - wondering if Delphine had heard the new Heart song in France, it was called ‘Alone’, and the lyrics were rad.

Then, shortly after Delphine had written back, had mentioned meeting Jean, a boy in her grandma’s village, had described his wavy chestnut hair and a small scar across his left eyebrow, and how he squinted when he smoked, and that his kiss tasted of cigarettes and wine, Cosima’s letters had petered out, stopping completely a full month before Delphine came back. And when their cab had rolled back in, it was Delphine who had to seek Cosima out, surprised not to find her friend waiting on their front steps like she had every single September before.

Delphine had found Cosima in her parents’ garage, bent over her dad’s drafting table, back to her. There’d been a strange smell permeating the small room, not entirely unpleasant and Delphine’s brows drew with surprise. Marijuana. When she’d called Cosima’s name softly, her friend had turned, a cascade of dreadlocked tresses swinging with the movement, and had rendered her speechless, stunned with surprise. “Cosima! Mon dieu, your hair! When-? How-?” She’d had no idea, not even an inkling, as she stood face to face with her best friend, a slightly vulnerable but defiant look on Cosima’s face.

Delphine draws her jeans on, pulls a tshirt over her head, pulling herself out of her reverie. No, if she is to be honest, she shouldn’t be surprised that she didn’t know anything about Cosima asking Shay out. Ever since the summer, when she came back home to a different best friend, to a more quiet but somehow more self-possessed Cosima, she has felt as though there were things that Cosima was not telling her, things that seemed to be on the tip of her tongue at times, only to be silently swallowed back a moment later, a pensive look on her face.

Delphine pulls her Chucks on over bare feet and shoulders her backpack. She doesn’t like it, this new distance between them, won’t stand for it. And if Cosima wants to go out with Shay, that’s fine, but they are going to talk about it, like best friends do. Delphine grabs her jacket and slams the locker door shut, trying to ignore the new sour feeling in the pit of her stomach. It feels uncomfortably like jealousy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a sense of deja vu as she leans in the doorway of the Niehaus’ garage, observing an unaware Cosima. Her friend is different, not only in the way she acts and carries herself but, Delphine notes, in the way she looks. Dreads aside, there is a certain new softness to her, a femininity that wasn’t there prior to this summer. Cosima’s sweaters, Delphine has noticed, are tighter, clinging with supple ease to the curves beneath them, and she has taken on occasion to wearing dresses in bold prints and colors instead of her usual roomy sweatshirts and baggy jeans.

As she observes her now, Delphine recalls Shay’s comments, sees Cosima through the popular girl’s eyes – the dreads, the glasses, the lips… Feels the familiar heat creep up her face, spread through her chest.

“What if she wants to kiss you?” The words are out of her mouth before she’s had a chance to process them, blurting out the thought her brain had snagged on since she overheard Tracy and Shay.

Cosima startles at the sound of her voice and Delphine can see the surprise and confusion in her eyes. She soldiers on, praying for a nonchalant tilt to her words. “You asked out Shay Jones, the most popular girl in school, and amazingly she said yes.” Her teeth worry her lower lip. “What if she wants to kiss you?”

It’s a valid question, after all. Has Cosima thought through what could happen? From what she overheard, kissing Cosima may be just the first course for Shay.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to kiss her.” There it is again, the undercurrent of defiance in Cosima’s demeanor, an unspoken ‘what’s it to you?’ Delphine feels it flare up again, the acidic feeling in the pit of her stomach, and it propels her into the garage, toward Cosima.

“You’ve never kissed anyone.” She hears the question in her statement, wonders if this is another thing that has changed about Cosima, another new secret between them.

There is a flash of.. hurt? in Cosima’s eyes before she turns away from her and walks to the fridge in the corner of the garage. “No, I haven’t.” When she turns around, holding two sodas, her face is composed, blank. “But last I checked, kissing’s not rocket science.”

Delphine takes the proffered can, considers her next words carefully. “True.” She pauses to take a sip of the soda, feeling the cool effervescence ease the sudden dryness in her throat. Can’t quite believe what she is about to say. “But if you have only one shot, don’t you think you should perhaps work on it?”

Cosima is confused, understandably so, but Delphine puts her soda down, slides onto the pine bench across from her, presses on. “Yeah, work on it. Pretend I’m her.”

This time Cosima cottons on to what she’s saying, mouth swinging open with surprise and Delphine allows herself a short moment of glee at having pierced her friend’s act of indifference. She’s not sure of what she’s doing, though, what is propelling her to go on with this harebrained idea, but her heart is booming loudly in her ears again, and she has to grip the bench below her because her hands are twitchy and clammy. Now that she has practically dared Cosima to kiss her – dared Cosima, the girl who once flung herself off the rock jutting 20 feet above the local pond with a grim look of determination on her face after an offhand, barely uttered dare – Delphine knows that there is no backtracking. Cosima is stepping up to her with apparent determination, but her eyes belie her confidence as Delphine can see them darting around, looking everywhere but at her.

Strangely, Cosima’s nervousness makes her feel more at ease, makes her feel protective, almost in control as she lays Cosima’s hands on her hips, wraps her own arms around her friend’s neck. Then they are staring at each other from a hair’s breadth away, poised on the edge of something unexpected, unknown, and Delphine sees the question in Cosima’s eyes, is unprepared to face it.

She husks out, “Close your eyes,” and when Cosima does, it is easier, easier to lean in and close the distance, pretend this is naught but a lesson given, a simple exchange of knowledge; you tilt your head like thus, press in slightly, just a brush, pause a moment, then lean in again, part your lips just so and – oh.

And then she is sinking, sinking into this sensation that feels like home and more, the softness unlike anything she’s felt before. Cosima’s hands grip her tighter, and her thighs reflexively fall open, then close back in, pulling Cosima closer to her. There are starbursts painted at the back of her closed eyelids and the warmth that started in her chest is spreading, sinking lower and she wonders, distractedly, if Cosima feels the same, if—she pushes off, mortified, scrambling off the bench. Or if Cosima is thinking about Shay.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Cosima is flushed, lips bruised and glistening, confusion etched on her face.

“N-nothing.” She is backing up, panic rising at the tumult of emotions within, fanned by a vision of Cosima kissing Shay which stubbornly clings to every thought bouncing in her head. “I need to go. I- I have to – I forgot to do something for my parents.”

Cosima is asking her something, but the thrumming in her ears, in her chest is too loud and she sweeps up her backpack, stumbles into a run. Then she is out of the garage, fresh air cooling her burning face and there is nothing to do but run, try to run past the confusion and the tell-tale burn in her eyes.


	3. By twig_height

Delphine runs all the way to her house, through her front door, past her parents in the kitchen (ignoring their “hellos”), up the stairs and into her room, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary behind her. She throws her bag down on the floor and lets out an exasperated sigh. “What have I done?” she asks as she goes out into the hall to her bathroom.

Delphine stares at her flushed reflection in the mirror, unsure if it is from the exertion from running from Cosima’s house, or…

Delphine places a hand to her lips, still ablaze from earlier.

“What are you doing?” She says to her reflection. She runs cold water to splash on her face to try and temper the heat that radiates.

“Cosima is your _best friend — girl…_ friend. You were swooning over Jean… who is a _boy_ the whole summer.” Delphine hears a knock at the door, startling her from her thoughts.

“Delphi? Are you all right?” Her mother calls from the other side of the door.

“Yes, maman. I’m fine.” Delphine grabs a towel off the rack to dry her face and gathers herself before opening the door. “I..I just really had to pee. Sorry.”

“I thought you were studying with Cosima tonight?” her mother questions.

“Oh, um…she had to cancel, her father needed some help at the flower shop.” Delphine hated lying to her parents, but she didn’t know what else to say.

Her mother gives her a curious look, but doesn’t press any further. “Okay, dinner will be ready in about an hour,” she says and walks back downstairs.

Delphine goes back to her room, lays down on her bed, and lets out a long breath. Lips still tingling.

———

Cosima watches as Delphine disappears out of site, then heads back into the garage. She looks around trying to piece together what just happened. _Delphine was just helping me prepare for my date with Shay Jones_ , she thought. _That’s it._ So why the sudden rush to leave?

It was a nice kiss. Cosima sighs. No, not nice — it was how she had always imagined it would be…with Delphine. Words could not give it justice. _Stop_ , she thought. Delphine is not into girls. She had made that perfectly clear this summer. Cosima shakes her head as if that would clear her mind. She walks over to her father’s drafting table and cracks open one of the textbooks to begin studying. As she reaches for a pencil, she catches site of Delphine’s soda can. Cosima picks it up and sighs again. She stares at the can, for what, answers? As she turns the can absentmindedly in her hand, she notices the outline of lip gloss that has perfectly preserved the shape of Delphine’s soft, supple lips. The lip gloss that Cosima can still taste.


	4. By arabybizarre

_Do you think Zach W. is cute?_

That’s what the note had said in seventh grade, the note Delphine had passed to her during third period Health, as they were subjected to an educational video on the dangers of drunk driving. When her stomach knotted, fingertips ghosting over the lime green ink in which the blonde had scrawled the question, heartbeat suddenly quickening, she’d been given her first concrete indication that her own feelings for the girl were, _maybe_ , not as friendly as she’d been trying to convince herself.

Glancing at Delphine across her desk, eyebrow quirked, the blonde had met her eyes and giggled, cheeks colored. _“So?”_ she’d mouthed.

 _“No,”_ she’d eagerly wanted to reply – wanted to shout. Instead, she’d turned her gaze Zach W., sitting at a desk on the other idea of the room, nodding off with his chin in his palm. He _was_ cute, she supposed, in a very conventional way. Handsome. He played baseball, had just been inducted into the junior honor society. He was treasurer of the student government.

 _I guess he’s alright. Yeah,_ she had hastily scrawled, folding the note three times and passing it underhanded to Delphine, beneath her desk.

She’d forced herself to turn her attention ahead and watch the film. On screen, a young man in a wheelchair was being interviewed. He’d crashed his car after a school dance senior year, had been heavily intoxicated. He hadn’t walked since.

Her leg burned when Delphine nudged her. Slowly, she took back the note, unfolding it with a sense of trepidation.

_He looks like he’d be a good kisser : )_

What Delphine found out—what Cosima _heard_ —three weeks later, was that he hadn’t, in fact, been very good at all. He’d tasted like hours old peanut butter cups and had left a ring of saliva around the blonde’s lips. _“It was like he was trying to swallow my face,”_ Delphine had laughed, lying across Cosima’s bed the day after. Still, he’d been her first. It had counted for something.

It had counted in the same way practice counts. Even if Delphine’s mouth had only been the prelude to the lips of another, that mouth had been _on_ _hers_. Cosima’s first—her best friend. Try as she might, she still can’t get the taste out of her mouth, the image burned into the backs of her eyelids.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she sing-songs to herself, bringing the joint to her lips. The home economics teacher is likely getting used to her absences by now – it’s the fourth time she’s skipped this month. This is the first time, however, that she’s been audacious enough to retreat to the football field, hiding beneath the bleachers for a toke. _Kids smoke cigarettes under here all the time_ , she tells herself. _Why can’t I get away with it?_

She smokes wistfully for several minutes, spacing out as she goes over the morning’s bio exam in her head. _Chromatid separation,_ she thinks suddenly. The diminishing joint is suspended halfway to her lips as number six’s _correct_ answer appears in the fore of her mind. _How did I get that wrong?_ Delphine never would’ve allowed her to, had they prepped together.

“Chromatid separation.” She says it aloud, very slowly, before taking a hit. Suddenly, a shout rises in the distance, followed by a flurry of chatter. “Shit,” she hisses, scrambling to her feet, snubbing the joint. Peeking out from between the infrastructure, she sees the hour’s P.E. class pouring out of the gym doors. _Fifth period. Friday._ “Shit,” she says again. This is Delphine’s gym class. And Shay’s.

For nearly ten minutes she paces, the students setting off around the track, running laps. Shay lags behind, jogging at a pace leisurely enough that she can maintain conversation with her friend Tracy. The head cheerleader’s shorts are rolled at the waist, showing off her lean legs; shirt knotted slightly at the back to fit tighter around her abdomen. Cosima exhales slowly, watching her pass. Her attention is stolen, however, when Delphine breezes by.

Cosima has always found her to be oddly graceful when running. Her gym clothes hang loosely around her frame, billowing with each stride. The look of cool determination on her face, the length of her arms and legs captivates Cosima. Before she realizes it, she’s licking her lips.

It’s probably the weed that possesses her, but as Delphine makes her next quick lap around, Cosima calls out her name. The girl stumbles slightly, looking over her shoulder with a furrowed brow, but doesn’t stop. Cosima waits, and as she comes around again, calls to her twice. Finally, Delphine stops, looks around. The brunette waves a hand discretely through the bleachers, calling her again. When her friend finally spots her, her eyes widen briefly.

“Cosima,” she whispers, her tone reproachful, yet carrying an undercurrent of amusement.

“Come around the side,” the brunette tells her. Delphine glances over each shoulder. When she is certain the teacher is preoccupied, she hurries around the bleachers, ducking under to meet Cosima.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Don’t sound so nervous,” she tells her, though, as she watches Delphine’s eyes dart, not quite meeting hers, she feels her own nerves rising. _But why?_ _We’re best friends._ She has to remind herself, over and over.

“You’re not worried at all about—” She stops mid-sentence, sniffing curiously. Suddenly, her eyes grow even wider, and she shoves Cosima’s shoulder. “Were you smoking?” The shorter girl can only grin. “You were! What were you thinking, Cosima? Are you crazy?”

“What,” she giggles, a bit anxiously.

“On school property?”

“Kids smoke out here all the time!”

“Yes—cigarettes!”

“Oh, please. You don’t think anyone gets high under here? You’re the crazy one.”

Delphine scrubs a hand down her face, sighing. “Please don’t get expelled,” she mumbles.

“Don’t worry,” Cosima laughs. Unconsciously, she reaches out to rub Delphine’s arm, but stops herself. Out of the corner of her eye, the blonde notices. “Hey,” Cosima starts, clearing her throat. “You know… I made some really stupid mistakes on that bio exam today.”

“Oh?” Delphine lifts her gaze, the implications of the statement setting in. “Oh, yeah.” She pauses. “Sorry about the other night. I had to help my parents. With cleaning,” She adds, almost as an afterthought. “I didn’t want them to be angry.”

“Oh, okay.” Cosima nods understandingly. “That’s fine. I just—you didn’t say anything, so… I wasn’t sure if something was up.”

“No,” Delphine quickly assures her.

“Plus, we didn’t really get a chance to talk yesterday—”

“Yeah—sorry. It was a… busy day.”

“Okay. Just making sure you were all right,” Cosima finishes. She should mention the kiss, she knows. Delphine is being evasive. They may have drifted apart somewhat in the past six months, but she can still read her with total ease. That, at least, has not changed.

Uncomfortable silence settles between them for a few moments. Cosima looks away, peeking through the bleachers. She can see Shay passing in front of her once again, laughing at something Tracy has said. Her face lights up when she laughs, the brunette notes. Even from yards away, she can see exactly how blue her eyes are.

 _Mention the kiss,_ she thinks again. Instead, she says, “My date is tomorrow.” When she turns her gaze to Delphine again, her friend’s eyes snap to her, gaze distant, cheeks red. She’d been staring in the same direction as Cosima.

“Right,” the blonde says, somewhat tersely. After a couple seconds she shakes her head and smiles. “ _Right._ I forgot.” _I never really told you when it was,_ Cosima thinks. “Are you ready?”

Cosima stares at her for a moment. “For the date,” she asks. Really, she meant, _“For the kiss?”_ She’s sure it’s what they’re both thinking.

“Of course,” Delphine laughs, standing up a bit straighter.

“Yeah, yeah…” She trails off, turning her gaze again to focus on Shay, now on the other side of the track. Her head feels considerably less fuzzy staring at the cheerleader, instead of the girl she feels boring holes into her face, right in front of her. “I was thinking we’d just, like, do dinner and a movie. You know?”

“Good,” Delphine says, a little quietly. “How are you getting there?”

“My dad said I could borrow the car.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool,” Cosima meets her eyes suddenly, gaze darting before averting again to find Shay.

Her attention isn’t fully captured until Delphine asks, her voice equal measures tentative and resolute, “Do you need more practice?” Cosima has no doubt what she means.

 _You should tell her no,_ she thinks to herself. _Kissing Delphine right before your date? Tell her no._

Of course, if she’d listened to her mind all along, had always done what it had told her, what it had wanted, she probably would have ruined their friendship a long time ago.


	5. By thecirclesquare

_What did I just say?_ I thought.

“What?” Cosima said.

_Oh my God! Oh my God! Now what?_

“Ehm… I just… ehm,” I stuttered.

I rubbed at the back of my neck.

“I just asked if you thought you might… you know, need more practice.”

“More practice?” Cosima said. “As in, kissing practice?”

“Yeah, well, I mean, practice makes perfect, right? I mean, what kind of friend would I be if I let you embarrass yourself? I already feel pretty awful about the bio exam. I mean, I think I owe you one, don’t I?”

Cosima tilted her head and glanced out through the bleachers. I followed her line of sight.

Just then Shay ran by, and as she ran, the afternoon sunlight glistened off of her hair, casting her whole face in shadows. She laughed with her friends, and the sound trailed behind her until she was far off down the track.

 _God!_ I thought. _She really does have a flipping halo, doesn’t she? Gross!_

But when I turned back to Cosima, she had that look in her eye, that look like she was either about to make some deeply, insightful, philosophical statement or express an urge to eat an entire pizza.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then, she smiled instead.

“What?” I said.

“Practice… makes… perfect,” she said.

With each word, her smile grew, and by the last “t” in _perfect_ , her smile was so large that I couldn’t even see her pupils.

I laughed, too, not because I thought it was funny, but because I didn’t know what else to do.

“Yeah?” I said. “So?”

She laughed so hard that she fell against my shoulder. She rested her head there and then patted me on the back like an older brother might. I liked the shoulder leaning part, but I didn’t like the fraternal pat.

I pushed her away.

“Oh my god! Shut up!”

“Practice makes perfect!” she repeated, nearly doubled over with laughter.

“You know what, never mind! I was trying to serious, and a good friend… and… I don’t… I was trying to help you! But you’re too high to appreciate it, and like… I have to get back to the track before Coach Monroe notices I’m gone.”

“No, no, no! Wait!” Cosima said.

She reached for my hand, catching it awkwardly at the wrist. She spun me around until we were face to face.

“Wait!” she said. “I’ll be serious. I’ll be serious. I promise.”

“Fine,” I said, trying hard to stay angry.

But I couldn’t stay angry, not as another smile crept across her mouth.

“Cosima, come on!”

“No! I’m totally serious.”

“Serious about what?”

“I’m serious about wanting to practice…with you.”

I wasn’t expecting that. I think I blushed.

“Oh.”

“But only because I want to be perfect…”

Her voice trailed off, but her eyes stayed right on my face.

“…for Shay,” I added, not sure why I felt the need to fill the empty space.

“Right, exactly,” she said, stepping away from me. “For Shay.”


	6. By trylonandperisphere

_“Psst,”_ comes a hiss from surprisingly close to them, making both girls slightly jump.  ”Hey.  _Dork squad.”_

With the change to a low murmur of an insult, Delphine recognizes the reedy voice.  It’s Felix, Cosima’s adopted brother.  She and Cosima both look around, trying to figure out where he is, until an eraser comes flying out from between two of the bleacher levels and bounces lightly off of Cosima’s shin.  Delphine turns her head and sees his barely pubescent face peering through the slats.

“Ow, Felix, what the hell,” Cosima asks, giving him a look.  He waves and then disappears, the tumbling thumping of his footsteps down the stairs only slightly lessened by his soft-soled Capezios.  In a moment, he rounds the bleachers at their level and jogs up to them.

“Sorry to break up your little descent into stoner-ville,” he huffs archly, “but I heard something I thought you’d want to know.”

Cosima looks at him as though she’s counting down from ten to restrain herself from throttling him, and Delphine shuffles back a step self-consciously.    She wonders how much of their conversation he heard.  Her face flushes despite herself. _I wonder if he has any idea of what I meant by “practice,”_ she frets.

“Look, Cos, I’m sorry to tell you this, but… that date you have,” Felix clarifies, his face turned serious, “with Shay?  It’s a joke.  She doesn’t really want to go out with you.  She’s only doing it to get back at Paul Dierden, and he and his friends are gonna jump you when you show up at his after-party.”

Delphine’s eyebrows fly upwards.  She watches as Cosima’s face drops, her eyes squinting in distrust in her troublemaker sibling’s motives, but also flashing the suspicion that what he was saying could be true, and the beginnings of hurt.

“What, why would you say that,” Cosima asks him, and Felix sets his mouth in a grim line.

“It’s true.  I heard Paul and his friends talking about it.  I’m really sorry, dweeb-o, but you’d better back out of it.”  His head turns as the ring of the first bell cuts through the air from the school building.

“Better go,” he says, with a surprisingly tender pat on Cosima’s arm, and runs off.

Delphine can see Cosima processing what he’s said.  She steps forward again, brows knit in anger and worry.

“Those bastards,” she says, nearly touching Cosima’s arm, but just stopping.  “I’m so sorry, Cosima.  We should’ve known, with that crew.”  Paul Dierden, football hero and school Richie Rich, is just the kind of douche who would set up an elaborate plan to hurt Cosima after she made a move on his ex-girlfriend.   _Still-girlfriend,_ apparently, she corrects herself.  Despite her popular status, Delphine wouldn’t have suspected Shay of something like this, but now…

Cosisma shuffles her feet, and her gaze moves from focusing on them  up to a point above Delphine’s head.  She swallows.

“Well, I guess that I’m going, anyway.”

“What,” Delphine asks, not sure she heard her right.  “You’re going to go there to get decked by those goons?”

Cosima’s expression is determined, almost fierce, now.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I have to.  You know, all my life I’ve been looked down on and treated badly by people like that.  I have to go.  I’m not gonna run again.”

Delphine’s mouth hangs open as she looks at her best friend.   _It’s true,_ she thinks, _she really has changed._  But what does it mean?  Is this all a matter of pride for her, or does she have something else in mind?  And what about Shay?  What Felix told them went directly against the discussion Delphine had heard the cheerleader and her friends having in the locker room.  What if he’s wrong, and Shay isn’t a part of this?  If she is, Cosima could get hurt, emotionally and physically.  But if she isn’t… if Cosima _thinks_ she isn’t, she’ll definitely want to go ahead with the date, or at least a different one later.

“Cosima, no,” she finds herself saying.  “Don’t take chances.  Getting caught up with them, with someone like _her,_ it’s just a bad idea.  You’ll get hurt.  Do you have some kind of death wish?”

Cosima looks back at her, and Delphine can see from both the jut of her jaw and the suddenly settled resolve in her eyes that she’s going to push ahead.  A small smile actually forms on her expressive lips as she really takes in Delphine’s expression, her posture.

“No, Del, and I’m not worried about them,” she answers. “I can handle them, and even if I can’t, some time I’ve just gotta stand up for myself.  Even if I get hurt, it’s the right thing to do.”

Delphine grips the hair on top of her own head in agitation.  Why is Cosima picking now to take some kind of stand?  Does she want Shay that much?  Why can’t she just let this go and get back to…

Get back to what? _”Practicing”_ with Delphine?  The blonde chokes her own thought.

“You know, though,” Cosima muses, cocking her head in that familiar way that bespeaks of her hatching a plot, “if I’m gonna do this, I want to do it right.”  She eyes her old friend up and down and seems to come to a decision.

Delphine feels a flutter in her stomach.  She’s not even aware she’s worrying her own lip between her teeth in her usual nervous habit.

Cosima’s eyes soften, and Delphine holds her breath.

“Do you think you could drive us,” Cosima asks, as the second bell rings.

Delphine is not sure what she expected, but it wasn’t that.


	7. By Cophinaphile

Compulsively and repeatedly, Delphine tightened and then loosened her grip on the oversized steering wheel of the 1941 Lincoln Continental Convertible.  She ground her teeth, cutting her eyes at the rear view mirror, barely able to see Shay’s front door in its reflection. Cosima had borrowed the car for the evening, and she had reviewed the plan and ground rules with Delphine before they left.  She was to follow the map exactly to each location and keep the speedometer between 25 and 30 mph for the benefit of the vintage engine, not for Shay’s hair, which Cosima had promised her would not be ruined by her choice of chariot.

Cosima had gone into the house over ten minutes ago, and Delphine had given up trying to predict what might be going on inside the palatial home or when Cosima might emerge with her date on her arm or holding her hand. Instead her mind fell back to the decision that had landed her here, miserably waiting to see if practice really did make perfect… or at least _good enough_ to win Cosima a girlfriend.

 “You want me to drive you and Shay on your date? Like a chaperone?” a baffled Delphine clarified, enjoying the idea of making sure there was sufficient daylight between their bodies at all times.

“Chaperone? No, jeez, what is it 1959?  I was thinking more like a chauffeur, you know.” It was clear that Cosima was trying to ratchet up her “smooth” factor with this odd request, “but only if you’re cool with it, obvs.”

Cool with it? Delphine considered the implications of that phrase.  On one hand, she could follow her gut and refuse.  Be “cool with” sitting at home and imagining Cosima standing next to a car, inserted between another girl’s thighs, reaching for another girl’s hips, sliding her hands around another girl’s neck, and brushing her lips against another girl’s mouth.

Or, she could chauffeur Cosima’s date with Shay and be “cool with” ignoring the intimate whispers coming from the the back seat and stealing half glimpses of that halo-haired Skipper doll trying to leave her mark on Cosima’s… what was it Shay had called it? Oh yeah, “bangin’ body!”  Be “cool with” suppressing her urge to gouge the girl’s eyes out as they slid down Cosima’s cleavage or up her thigh.  There was of course only one possible course of action.

“Why wouldn’t I be cool with it?” she rolled her eyes, a fake smile tugging at only half of her mouth.

“So, you’ll do it?” Cosima bounced and beamed at the same time.

“Oui, Cosima. Yes, I’ll do it.” She bowed her head, ran her hand through her blonde curls, swung her eyes back up to Cosima’s and tried to force her half smile across the other side of her face.

Her attention was brought back to the present by the muted thump of a closing door, followed by a tangle of voices exchanging pleasantries and farewells. Two sets of heels clicked down the cement driveway and across the street.  Delphine threw open her own driver’s door and hurried around to the back passenger side door, holding it open for Shay, who complimented her formal black attire and chauffeur’s cap by throwing a “Butch totally works on you, Delphine!”over her right shoulder as she slid into the car. 

Hearing the comment, Cosima flashed a toothy grin at her best friend and let herself in the opposite door, moving closer to Shay than Chaperone Delphine would have allowed.  Chauffuer Delphine forced herself to hold her tongue, offering Shay a tight smile in return for her compliment.

While lowering herself back into the driver’s seat, Delphine couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the back seat and at the hands whose fingers were already interlaced.  She rolled her eyes as she turned the ignition over and the engine roared to life, muffling but not drowning out the question Shay was directing at Cosima. “You’re sure that my hair will be ok, babe?”

She hadn’t meant to react quite so obviously, but as the word “babe” fell from Shay’s lips, Delphine gripped the steering wheel tight one more time and slammed her foot down on the accelerator. In less than ten seconds, the speedometer registered 45; wind swirled through the passenger compartment; Cosima was shouting something toward the front seat about “ground rules” and Shay’s hair whipped across her face, sticking in clumps to her generously applied lipstick. 

“Désolé!” Delphine, sporting a wicked grin, shouted over the noise of the engine, “my fault.”


	8. By LadyZephyr

Cosima strained her neck, turning so that she could see out into the parking lot from the partially fenced in patio. She was beginning to wish that they could just go to the party thing Shay was insisting they go to after dinner. A few beers might help with the nerves.  And getting decked would be a relief at this point, they seem to have run out of topics of conversation.

When they’d arrived at the restaurant, Delphine had opted to stay in the car. Which was probably for the best. Cosima tried to redirect her attention to what Shay was saying.

"So anyways, apparently I have to edit Sarah’s essay for Mr Barnes’ third period English…"

"Oh." Cosima nodded politely. Why were they talking about English class again? At least the weather was co-operating, the patio was nice, the food was nice, Shay was… nice.

"I don’t think she’s ever even heard of a citation! And they expect me to… Cosima what are you looking at? The car is fine, Delphine is still in it, with her feet up, laying across the backseat listening to the radio. Same as when we left her there. I can sort of see her."

"Right sorry." Cosima smiles remembering, Shay is cute. Very cute. She picks at the last of her food, eating carefully - she doesn’t want to end up with onion breath tonight. That would ruin everything, if she can just stop thinking about Delphine, straight, uninterested Delphine, everything will be fine.

"Kind of nice having a chauffeur though, I can’t believe you let Delphine drive your dad’s car though."

"What my dad doesn’t know won’t kill him." Cosima shrugs, "So what else do you like?"

"Oh the usual, parties, dancing, beer, astrology, movies, running track…" Shay smiles, playing with a strand of hair between her fingers - the perfectly rehearsed flirtatious look Cosima had seen directed at so many others - guys and girls - at school. "…hot guys, hot girls…" 

Cosima opts for flirting back,”Yeah. I’ve watched you run track, nice way to spend fifth period.” And watch Delphine run track, she adds to herself, instantly picturing it- curls bouncing and strong legs propelling her best friend across the pavement.

"I know. For a science geek you’ve got such a sexy body." Shay’s flirting now, "Party should be good for some dancing… and some privacy."

Cosima balks slightly at the backhanded compliment, she swallows down her initial bitterness. Don’t fuck this up, she reminds herself. Cosima feels herself warm slightly as Shay’s eyes drift down her body.

Shay teases her happily, “What, you shy?” Is this a game? Some sort of weird ‘deflower-the-geek’ ritual? Does she intend on having Paul and his cronies burst in on them as some kind of show? But Shay seems too nice for that…

"No," Cosima shakes her head, finishing off her food, "Not too shy."

"Good." Shay decides happily, "So we going dutch with the bill?"

"Yup." Cosima nods happily, hoping she’s made the right decision. Egalitarianism seems only fair for a first date, and Shay’s family has more money than hers - why should she have to pay for her? Especially if it does turn out to be a set up.

"Oh." Shay seems briefly disappointed, "I guess that’s dating other girls, right?" She flags down the waiter quickly.

"I guess so. Least there’s not like a macho thing going on?" Cosima suggests as if it’s a consolation for having to pay for one’s own meal.

"Oh god yes! It’s a relief, mostly." A genuine smile this time, as Shay pays for her own food, and Cosima does the same,  stopping to calculate a tip for the waiter.

She finally gets a chance to stand, instantly turning to get a look at Delphine. She can see one hand playing relentlessly with the upholstery in the back seat, long legs up and hanging out over the side of the car.  Cosima is about to shout at Delphine to stop playing with the fabric before she wears a hole in it when a breathy voice meets her ear.

"How about we give the waiter a show instead of a tip?" Shay suggests in a low murmur, lips approaching rapidly.

"Yeah." Cosima manages to breathe out in response, lips going instantly to Shay’s, who tastes like cherry soda. Cosima pulls Shay in by the hips, and it’s easy - kissing definitely isn’t rocket science. She’s much more aggressive than Delphine, Cosima notes automatically, lips immediately reacting to keep up. It’s all somehow disappointing - the ghost of another kiss flitting across her mind - Delphine’s sweet mouth, kiss tinged with mint and cigarettes.  It’s suddenly all to obvious to her who she’d rather be kissing. Why is she on a date with Shay anyways?

Suddenly, there’s a hot hand against her thigh, pressing up slightly under the hem of her dress, going to cup her ass. Woah.

"Holy shit." Cosima breaks the kiss, one hand instantly going to pull her dress back down. Shay seems to mistake her shock for uncontrollable passion.

Shay seems immensely pleased with herself, “Not bad yourself… so party? Or my parents aren’t home, if you’d rather head home with me. We have a pool.”

"Yeah. Okay." Cosima nods catching her breath. It was a nice enough kiss, but nothing like… Is this really what she wants? Her first date and her first time on the same day? Any fantasies she’s ever had like that have quickly devolved into imagining herself kissing and touching Delphine. Picturing what it would be like to have her best friend want her back, not Jean or some other faceless stranger. She doesn’t let her mind go there anymore, even her fantasies aren’t safe.

"This is going to be fun." Shay taunts happily, pulling Cosima along passed the gawking waiter, Cosima finally faces the parking lot again, divided from the patio by some fencing.

She sees her then, Delphine has sat up looking at them both.  Blonde curls a mess and face downcast. How long has she been watching? This isn’t going to work, Cosima realizes suddenly. None of this Shay thing is going to work out. Not the dating, the kissing… certainly not the sex.

Delphine speaks finally, “I’ll give you the car keys - I’ll bus home. Enjoy the rest of your date.” Delphine swallows, holding out the keys, shaking slightly.  Before Delphine had gone away for the summer, she would have done anything to keep Delphine from looking at her like that. It’s no different now… nothing’s really changed.

Shay looks uncomfortable for a moment as Cosima reaches to take the keys off Delphine as she clambers out of the backseat.

"Umm, actually I’m not really wanting to go home with you on a first date." Cosima tries at first, directing her attention back to Shay momentarily. That’s enough right? They can just go to the party, smoke a joint or something and go home? Or she can lose her in the crowd and rush home to work things out with Delphine. They have to talk, even if it gets uncomfortable, this is getting ridiculous.

"Oh fuck it. You’re in love with her aren’t you?" Shay accuses, looking back and forth at them, it finally hitting her.  "I get a date with a hot girl, and fuck it, she’s in love with her best friend. You know what? I’ll call a cab." Shay shakes her head, storming off back into the restaurant.

Cosima looks at Delphine, cheeks reddening against her will. Shit! Her mind screams… shit, shit shit. “I…” She begins unable to form words, her hands gesturing pointlessly in the air.

Delphine looks equally vulnerable. Jealousy, Cosima finally manages to pin a name to the motivation behind Delphine’s sullenness, her suddenly crappy driving and flippant remarks.

"I tore the upholstery." Delphine says finally, obviously looking for anything else to say. "I’m sorry I just… I don’t like…"

Cosima shakes her head, “We’ll get it fixed.”  Dealing with her dad can wait until later. She reaches for Delphine’s hand on impulse, before stopping herself.

"You didn’t deny it." Delphine says slowly.

"No." Cosima admits finally, dropping her eyes before raising them back up to meet Delphine’s. "That would be a pretty big lie if I did."

She’s being pulled into Delphine’s embrace quickly, sweet lips finding her cheek and then her mouth. It’s infinitely superior, the way Delphine smells, how she has to lean up just slightly to kiss her. Cosima finds herself moaning involuntarily into Delphine’s mouth, gently holding her hips close.

"Screw practicing." Cosima mumbles between kisses, "This is better."


End file.
